


a cup of tea, a slice of baklava and…

by georgiamagnolia



Category: Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: Gen, Off Duty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-02
Updated: 2011-08-02
Packaged: 2017-10-22 03:10:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/233104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/georgiamagnolia/pseuds/georgiamagnolia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Napoleon stops by to bring lunch and help Illya unpack in his new digs.  <br/>What exactly is in that tea tin?</p><p>((originally posted elsewhere April 2K10))</p>
            </blockquote>





	a cup of tea, a slice of baklava and…

The knock on the door was a welcome interruption. He abandoned his search and drew his side arm and went to the door. A quick check showed his partner on the other side.

“Why didn’t you…” he stopped as he swung the door open and then grabbed for a sliding grocery sack, the reason Napoleon hadn’t used the coded knock becoming obvious. He reholstered the weapon. “What did you do, knock with your nose?” He took one more bag from his partner’s overflowing burden and led the way inside. He heard the door close and trusted that Napoleon had enough of a free hand now to throw the bolt.

“I thought you might be ready for some lunch.” Napoleon joined him in the kitchen and sat the remainder of his housewarming gift on Illya’s counter. “Consider me the welcome wagon.”

“You may have needed a wagon to get all this up here.” Illya started emptying the contents of the paper bags onto the counter.

“Not a literal wagon, _tovarisch_ ,” Napoleon would have gone on, but his partner broke in.

“I know, Napoleon,” Illya gave a little half smile. “You could make yourself useful and find some plates over in that pile of boxes,” he nodded toward the corner of the kitchen where a tower of boxes hadn’t been opened yet.

The top box was marked ‘K TWL’ and was much too light to be dishes. The next was marked ‘K CLN’ and there was a suspicious sloshing as of bottles of soap and things. Napoleon sat both boxes to the side. The next box was labeled ‘LT B-D’ and was much too heavy and solid to be dishes.

“Illya, I get ‘K T W L’ might be kitchen towels and the like. But what is this heavy in a kitchen and would be marked ‘L T B D’?”

Illya abandoned his arrangement of lunch to walk over and look at the box in question. Then he looked up at Napoleon. “That is Literature, authors by last name B through D. It’s also what I was looking for when you arrived, thank you,” he picked up the box and hefted it to his shoulder and moved it to the correct pile in the living room.

Underneath was a box marked ‘K PLT CUP CTL’ and indeed, inside Napoleon found plates, cups and cutlery. He unpacked enough for lunch, retrieved a dishcloth and towel from the first box and was rinsing and drying them when Illya returned.

“You attack a move like a military campaign.” Napoleon might have sounded just a touch impressed, but it might just as easily have been amusement.

“I like to be able to unpack quickly and efficiently.” Illya shrugged. Then he muttered, “I might have better things to do later.”

They ate lunch mostly silently, each used to the other and their habits. Napoleon did notice a little more speed than usual in Illya. He was still lingering over the sticky baklava dessert when Illya was done.

“Don’t linger on my account, partner, I can see you chafing at the bit.” Napoleon smiled. “Let me clean up the kitchen and I’ll even unpack K Towels through Cutlery if you like.”

“Thank you, Napoleon. And thank you for bringing lunch.” Illya didn’t wait, he was back into the living room before Napoleon even got out of his chair.

The kitchen was a miniature version of his own two floors above, so he just put everything away as he would in his own kitchen. He rinsed and dried all the plates and cups and spoons and things, then found a place under the sink for the soap and floor cleaner. He had just wiped the counters down one last time and flattened all the cardboard boxes for disposal when Illya came back in the kitchen.

“There’s still baklava if you’d like some.” Napoleon pulled the waxed paper cover off the treat in question and sat it on the table as an enticement. “Coffee, or would you prefer tea?”

“Tea, yes. But let me…”

“No, really, Illya I know where everything is, after all.” Napoleon grinned over his shoulder as he filled the kettle with water and put it on the burner, then turned it on low.

He had spotted a tin of tea in his earlier recon of the kitchen while finding space for the dishes. He pulled it down and went to the table with mugs and spoons.

“Where did that come from?” Illya picked up the worn tin as Napoleon sat down to wait for the kettle to heat.

“It was in your cupboard.” Napoleon looked at the tin a little suspiciously.

“Yes, well, that is not where it belongs.” Illya just held it, not opening it.

The blue tin had an orange border and a hinged lid, advertising 36 packets of fine quality orange pekoe tea. On closer inspection it became obvious that it was not a new tin of tea.

“April was by this morning, she must have seen it in the living room and decided to help put things away.” Illya seemed to shake off a mood as he stood and took the still unopened tin into the living room.

He came back empty handed and went to the cupboard and pulled out a plain blue cardboard container of teabags and brought it to the table.

The kettle whistled.


End file.
